so empty  here without you
by patientalien
Summary: The Zone of Self-Containment is not a feeling easily abandoned. Anakin learns the hard way the price of seeking out numbness.


**title** so empty [here with(out) you]  
><strong>author<strong> **patientalien**  
><strong>word count<strong> 7,604  
><strong>rating<strong> NC-17  
><strong>summary<strong> The Zone of Self-Containment is a feeling not easily given up.  
><strong>notes <strong>Written for the captivity prompt on my **hc_bingo** card. Something of a re-write of my old fic "Gravity" from, like, forever ago, AU 'Jedi Quest'-verse, post-book 7. Title from "The Last Day on Earth" by Marilyn Manson.  
><strong>warning <strong>rape, substance abuse

* * *

><p>Being a Jedi Padawan did not lend itself to much free time. When not taking classes at the Temple on Coruscant, Padawans routinely accompanied their Masters on missions, taught Youngling classes, and practiced their lightsaber and piloting skills in preparation for the time their Master proclaimed them ready to take the Trials and be promoted to Knighthood.<p>

Anakin Skywalker knew he would be a Knight sooner than any of his agemates. He was the most talented in all of his practical classes, excelled on missions, and was the best at everything he did. Sure, sometimes he skipped class - but only when they were going over something he found boring - and sometimes he didn't do all of his assignments - if he had other things to do. But still, he was the best.

The only other Padawan in the Temple who even came close to matching him was Ferus Olin, but Ferus had no imagination, no panache, so when it came to the skills needed to be a truly skilled Jedi Knight, Anakin knew he had it over Ferus in spades.

Anakin was determined to reach Knighthood before his twentieth birthday. At seventeen, he was sure three years would be plenty of time for the Council and Obi-Wan to decide he was ready for the Trials. Surely his poor grades in some of his classes wouldn't reflect too badly on him; his performance on missions more than made up for it, and that was what mattered.

In fact, it was the promise of a new mission that had Anakin up early in the morning, before dawn, and far before he was normally awake. They'd been hunting Jenna Zan Arbor and Granta Omega for months, and they'd finally been able to track them down. He was thrilled that he and Obi-Wan got to be the ones to bring her to justice; she'd held him captive on Vanquor, had experimented on Obi-Wan's own Master years prior, and he wanted nothing more than to enact vengeance. Not that he would admit that to Obi-Wan, of course - vengeance was not something sought out by a Jedi, after all.

Still, he could not forget the feeling of pure, wonderful nothingness that had accompanied Zan Arbor's use of the Zone of Self-Containment on him, and the idea that he'd lost control so thoroughly (and still half-wanted to seek out a similar feeling) grated on him, made him uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Are you ready?" Obi-Wan asked as Anakin walked into the living room of their quarters, supply pack slung over one shoulder. "We're meeting Siri and Ferus in twenty minutes."

Anakin scowled. While he was glad for a mission, and he liked Siri well enough, he wasn't thrilled to be paired up with Ferus. Not just because Ferus was a huge stick in the swamp and would be doing everything he could to suck up to Siri and Obi-Wan and generally being insufferable, but he was a little worried because Ferus tended to keep a very close eye on him, and had, in the past, talked to Obi-Wan about things Anakin had done that Ferus did not feel were becoming of a Jedi. The last thing he wanted was to be tattled on for being anxious to end Zan Arbor and Omega's machinations.

"Ready, Master," he said, meaning it. He supposed he could get over his dislike of Ferus for the few days the mission would take. At the very least, he'd be able to pretend he didn't dislike Ferus for a few days, at least in front of people. "I'm looking forward to bringing those two to justice."

With a sigh, Obi-Wan palmed open the door. "Anakin, Jedi do not..."

"Seek revenge, I know," Anakin replied with a sigh of his own. "And I'm not seeking anything." Except he was, and he was sure Obi-Wan sensed it. Well, it didn't matter. He could want revenge and still act like a Jedi.

* * *

><p>Anakin's nerves were singing in anticipation by the time they reached the shuttle. He hurried to the cockpit, knowing the sooner they took off, the sooner they'd be to Zan Arbor. The sooner they had Zan Arbor, the sooner he could rid himself of the kind of dark aching desire for what she had to offer.<p>

No one argued with him when he lowered himself into the pilot's seat; he was by far the best pilot among them, and Obi-Wan knew how much he loved it, so generally he got to pilot whenever they were on a mission. It made him feel good, that Obi-Wan trusted him, acknowledged his talent. Though most of the trip would be spent on auto-pilot, leaving Coruscant's atmosphere required actual piloting, and even that small amount of opportunity was welcome.

"If we do find them," Obi-Wan said, settling into the co-pilot's seat, "remember we're a team. You don't have to feel like you have to capture them yourself." He was warning of something else, Anakin could tell, but neither of them would say it. He certainly wouldn't, anyway, and he doubted Obi-Wan had the words to describe what he was worried about.

"I know, Master," Anakin replied, not looking at him.

The trip to Baramorra was uneventful. Anakin spent his time in the cockpit and the engine room, trying to keep busy, trying to keep his mind off the fact he would very soon be facing Zan Arbor again. He didn't want to think about it, because thinking about it made him think of the Zone of Self-Containment, and thinking about the Zone of Self-Containment made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

He was hunched over a panel in the engine room, trying to recalibrate the feed to the primary buffer panel, allowing for a smoother re-entry, when a voice from behind him interrupted his moving meditation. "Master Kenobi's been looking for you."

Anakin turned, wiping his grease-stained hands on his tunic. "I told him where I'd be," he replied, though it wasn't really the truth. He'd mentioned his project, but apparently Obi-Wan hadn't listened. Or Ferus was just down here to spy on him. Either way, Anakin felt a surge of irritation.

Ferus looked mildly uncomfortable, which made Anakin feel a little better; he liked making the older boy uncomfortable, liked to see Ferus out of his comfort zone. "I just told him I'd find you," he said. "We're almost ready to come out of hyperspace and he figured you'd want to bring us down."

Reluctantly, Anakin had to admit he appreciated the thought. Still, arriving at Baramorra meant they would soon be tracking Zan Arbor. He didn't want his reluctance to be too obvious. "Fine, I'll be there in a minute."

Ferus nodded, awkwardly, and left, leaving Anakin alone again with the thrumming engines.

* * *

><p>Baramorra was an unpleasant planet, and it matched Anakin's mood perfectly. Overcast, cold and rainy, the planet didn't look like it had seen the sun in generations. "Lovely," Siri said with a slight frown.<p>

Anakin shuffled his feet in the dirt, looking down at his boots. Beside him, Ferus straightened, obviously trying to make himself look like the better Padawan, eager and attentive. Anakin couldn't bring himself to show much enthusiasm, though, even in competition with Ferus.

"Our intel shows Zan Arbor and Omega have set up operations about five klicks from here," Obi-Wan announced, looking at his datapad. "I suggest we get a move on."

The trek was not arduous, but the weather conditions only served to make Anakin feel even more miserable. The closer they got to the town, the harder it was to put one foot in front of the other. Thoughts of the Zone flitted through his consciousness; he tried to emulate the calm comfort of the drug on his own, found he couldn't. He doubted he would ever be able to.

As they approached the downtown area, near the large building that was serving as Zan Arbor's new headquarters, something in him suggested he go off on his own. Zan Arbor had an interest in him, he'd be able to lure her out into the open, he was sure. He voiced this opinion to Obi-Wan, sure his Master would shoot him down. Instead, Obi-Wan and Siri exchanged glances. "It's not a bad idea," Siri said.

Obi-Wan looked wary, but nodded. "Keep your communicator on," he said. "And be mindful." He drew Anakin aside from the others. "Anakin, are you sure?" His Master looked worried, brows drawn together. Anakin nodded. "Be mindful of your feelings, Anakin," Obi-Wan instructed. "Do not act rashly - lure her out, nothing more. We'll be nearby."

Anakin nodded again, and flipped on his comm. "It'll be fine, Master," he said, not sure he meant it.

"May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied.

Swallowing heavily, Anakin set off towards the building.

* * *

><p>Getting inside was just as easy as he'd expected it to be. As soon as he'd let the receptionist know who he was, Jenna Zan Arbor was there, leading him upstairs. He told her a story about leaving the Jedi, about wanting to help her with her research. She seemed delighted, her heavily-made-up face betraying a hint of excitement.<p>

He wasn't surprised to see Granta Omega in her office, though Omega seemed surprised to see him. "Anakin Skywalker," Omega greeted coolly. "So nice to see you again. And your Master? Is he well?"

"I wouldn't know," Anakin replied, playing his role, repeating his story. He sat in the chair Zan Arbor indicated for him, accepted a glass of sweet blue liquid. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that particular course of action was a bad idea, but he was thirsty, and he couldn't sense anything wrong with the drink.

Halfway through the glass, though, he realized that he had been monumentally stupid, and as soon as the thought congealed in his mind, it was gone. He felt warm and happy, and he was very glad he'd left the Order to help Zan Arbor.

Omega's hand was on his arm, and the contact felt good. Anakin wished he didn't have on his layers of Jedi tunics (why was he wearing those anyway? He wasn't a Jedi anymore) so he could feel Omega's smooth skin against his. He could hear Omega and Zan Arbor talking over him, but he wasn't sure what they were saying. He didn't really care what they were saying. He was warm, and comfortable, and safe.

* * *

><p>"This is not good," Siri Tachi said, staring in disgusted disbelief at her commlink.<p>

Obi-Wan couldn't help but agree with her assessment of the situation. At first, it seemed that Anakin's part of the mission was going smoothly, but as time went on, it became more and more clear that he'd gotten himself in over his head. Obi-Wan cursed his decision to agree with Anakin's plan; he should have known his apprentice would have done something foolhardy. Should have remembered Vanqor, the Zone, and Anakin's decision to keep it a secret. Sending him after Zan Arbor on his own had been inviting disaster, and Obi-Wan had fallen for it.

"We know where he is," Ferus spoke up. "We need to go in there, end this." There was worry in his eyes, a particular wariness that always seemed to accompany his interactions with Anakin.

"Indeed," Obi-Wan replied tightly. "But it isn't as if we can march right in the front door." He wished they could, wished they could just charge in, lightsabers blazing, and save his Padawan. A blinding thought struck him: what if Anakin didn't want to be saved? He forced himself to tamp down the insecurity, remind himself that even if Anakin had desired this, it was still up to Obi-Wan to protect him.

"We should regroup, then," Siri suggested. "We don't want to go into this half-cocked."

As much as Obi-Wan was screaming to go in there now, right now, he had to admit Siri had a point. He and the others retreated to a small inn several streets over from Zan Arbor's operation, and got to work.

* * *

><p>A day and a half later, Ferus pulled up a schematic of the building Anakin had disappeared into. "I managed to hack into the city's public works database," he said by way of explanation. The three Jedi studied the schematic for a long while, and finally, Ferus pointed. "Here. This vent goes into the back alley, and it looks like it has access to the entire building."<p>

Obi-Wan nodded. "Good work, Padawan," he said, wishing it was his own Padawan he was praising, instead of rescuing. He knew it wasn't the time for such feelings, knew, in fact, that there really wasn't any time at all for him to feel that way.

After some brief discussion, they headed to the alley behind the building, careful to avoid the cameras mounted to the front. The grate came off easily, and though it was a tight fit, Obi-Wan knew it was the only way. He pulled himself into the vent behind Siri and Ferus, and re-attached the grate behind him.

* * *

><p>Anakin knew this was not the Zone of Self-Containment. Well, maybe it was, but something about it had been altered. As before, he felt detached, calm, peaceful, but now there was something else, something that struck through his body like electricity, pooling in his stomach and groin.<p>

Omega had undressed him, and that had been okay. Anakin had leaned into the touches, longing for more, but Omega had remained professional. He'd been led upstairs, to a large room with a large bed, which was where he now perched, a collar around his neck. He knew, in the back of his mind, that the collar indicated ownership. That was okay, he decided. He felt fine, and the idea did not make him angry. He knew that, when the time was right, he would be able to escape, as long as his mind remained clear.

The trouble was, it was hard to keep his mind clear. Zan Arbor had taken his lie of wanting to help with her research seriously, and had presented him with a small variety of different substances over the course of the time he'd been there - he wasn't sure exactly how long it had been. He told her, truthfully, that he liked them all, but the Zone was the best. The Zone didn't make his eyelids droop, or his speech slur. It didn't affect his motor functions or ability to think or stay awake. The Zone was peace, and Anakin wanted peace above all else.

Zan Arbor returned with another syringe, and Anakin allowed her to inject him. He would ride this out, and when it was done, he would escape. He just needed to cooperate a little while longer...

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan struggled to see around Siri and Ferus as they made their way through the ventilation system. He wanted to be in the lead; this was his apprentice, after all. But there was no room in the vent to change positions, and he certainly wasn't going to throw a tantrum about it. Instead, he reached out with the Force and tried to sense Anakin.<p>

"I can feel him, slightly," he said after a long moment, "something's off." He was fairly sure he could guess what it was, too. "Just up ahead."

"There's a grate here, hold on," Ferus said, maneuvering himself to get a better vantage point. He ducked his head to see between the slats of the grate and pulled back suddenly. "Anakin's in there, all right," he said, tersely. "We don't have time to wait."

To Obi-Wan's immense surprise, Ferus ignited his lightsaber and cut the grate free, kicking it out into the room and jumping to the floor before either Obi-Wan or Siri could stop him. It was so completely unlike Ferus that Obi-Wan dreaded looking down into the room himself, to see what the boy had seen.

Taking a breath, Obi-Wan followed Siri to the floor, trying not to let his shock overwhelm him as he saw Granta Omega pulling away from the bed. Anakin lay face-down on the mattress, head turned to the side, eyes open and glazed over. At the sight of the blood on the backs of his legs, Obi-Wan averted his gaze and focused on Omega. "You are under arrest," he announced, leveling his lightsaber towards the man.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Siri approached Anakin, who'd made no indication he even noticed what was going on around him. Ferus, too, circled around Omega. Obi-Wan was surprised the other man wasn't putting up a fight, but supposed that he had literally been caught with his pants down by three Jedi. With Obi-Wan's blade at Omega's throat, Ferus cuffed the other man.

Obi-Wan went to Siri's side. "This mission is scrap," she hissed. "We need to get him back to the ship, save Zan Arbor for another time." It pained her to say it, just as much as it pained Obi-Wan to hear it. How many times had Zan Arbor been within their clutches? How many times had a mission needed to be aborted that would have brought her to justice? Obi-Wan knew they needed to add this mission to the list. "Anakin?" Siri said, brushing a hand over his cheek.

Anakin blinked, as if coming out of a fog. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, dazed.

"We're here to bring you home," Obi-Wan replied, ignoring Omega's laughter at the statement.

Anakin rolled back into a sitting position, wincing slightly. Now that he was out of his stupor, he seemed... almost normal. But Obi-Wan knew what the Zone of Self-Containment looked like, and knew Anakin well enough to realize when it was at work. "Oh," Anakin said. "Well, thank you, but I'm really okay here."

Obi-Wan stared at him. "Now, Anakin," he said, holding out a hand.

Anakin crawled to him, licking his lips. "Anytime, Master," he said, throatily, rising up to kneel in front of Obi-Wan, running his hands down his bare chest. "I don't mind an audience. Do you?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, grasping Anakin's wrists. "I do." He tightened his grip, slightly. "We are going now, Anakin." He put a push of the Force behind his words, hoping whatever version of the Zone Anakin was under was clouding his mind enough to let the ruse work.

"But I like it here," Anakin said with a slight smile. "It's warm, here."

Obi-Wan sighed and drew Anakin into a tight hug, summoning a robe from where it was draped over the bedside table. "We're going," he repeated, pulling Anakin to a standing position and wrapping him in the dark blue fabric. Siri and Ferus took either side of Omega and, lightsabers at the ready, they began to make their way out of the building.

* * *

><p>Securing Omega once they'd escaped the building was the easy part, Obi-Wan realized. It was Anakin they were having trouble with. This version of the Zone seemed stronger, seemed to be lasting much longer than the original, and on top of whatever else was in his system, was making Anakin difficult to control. He was everywhere, lascivious, hyper-sexual, propositioning each of them in turn.<p>

"He's really out of it," Ferus commented with worry. "There has to be something we can do."

"Don't want to sedate him until he's been examined," Siri pointed out. "Who knows what else he's on right now." She gently pushed Anakin away from her; he didn't seem to notice they were talking about him.

"I can make you less tense," Anakin offered, running a hand down Ferus' cheek. "C'mon, let's go, my bunk."

Ferus grabbed Anakin's wrist. "No," he said firmly. "Just cut it out. Nobody wants to have sex with you, Skywalker." It was harsher than it could have been, perhaps, but Obi-Wan had to admit, he was getting tired of rebuffing Anakin's advances. He was glad the trip back to Coruscant was a short one, in any case.

"But I need it," Anakin breathed, moving quickly to escape from Ferus' grip and grab Ferus' wrist in exchange.

"No," Obi-Wan said, stepping in and unwrapping Anakin's fingers from around Ferus' wrist. "Let's go back to your bunk now."

Anakin looked at him, wide-eyed. "Really, Master?" he asked. "You'd do that for me?"

Obi-Wan met Siri's gaze and shook his head, but when he turned back to Anakin, he nodded. "We just need to go back to your bunk, now," he replied, herding Anakin towards his small quarters.

Once there, he got Anakin settled on the bed, and made an excuse about freshening up himself. Promising he'd be back, he instead locked the door to Anakin's quarters from the outside.

"That should keep him contained until we're back to the Temple," Obi-Wan sighed, returning to the cockpit. He felt empty, irritable, worried, all feelings he knew he needed to release into the Force. He didn't want to think about what he'd just witnessed, didn't want to think about the blank wanton expression in Anakin's eyes, the pushing for sex, the scene they'd rescued him from. And worse, he knew once released from the Zone's embrace, Anakin would refuse to talk about it.

"He'll be alright," Siri said softly, hand on his shoulder. "We were able to get him out, he'll be fine."

Obi-Wan sighed and looked out the viewport at the hyperspace trails. "I hope so," he replied.

* * *

><p>Anakin fought the entire way to the Healers, and continued to fight until Bant Eiren sent a gentle calming Force-suggestion to his mind. "We'll run some tests," she told Obi-Wan softly. "He'll be fine, Obi-Wan."<p>

Obi-Wan bit his tongue to keep from snapping at his friend. It wasn't her fault Anakin had gotten himself into trouble again, after all. He needed to meditate, needed to calm his mind before Anakin recovered; he would need his wits for the inevitable conversation that Anakin would attempt to circumvent.

"Come on," Siri said from behind him. "The Council wants to see us." She sounded subdued, and Obi-Wan knew she felt just as troubled by the turn of events. He was glad to have her at his side, was glad not to face the Council on his own.

"I'll be back," Obi-Wan assured Bant, who merely nodded and went off to attend to Anakin.

"You can let me out of here now," Anakin informed Bant, trying to sugar his words, trying to keep the lust from his tone, though the Zone was still surging through his veins, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but his desires. He loved the peace, loved the sweet, sensual calm that accompanied it.

Bant saw through him. "Not until I know the Zone is out of your system." She looked him over critically. "And it's clearly not, yet." Anakin felt her use the Force to try and rip the veil surrounding him a bit, and he withdrew, wrapping himself in the Zone and settling back onto the bed. Bant seemed surprised, but let it be, for which Anakin was grateful.

He knew he didn't want to be here. He wanted to leave. Nobody here would help him get what he needed, nobody could understand what he needed. Zan Arbor had understood, Omega had understood. And he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do was wait, and when they let him out, then he could find something else. He was determined not to lose the feeling, this time.

* * *

><p>Three days later, and the feeling was gone, leaving behind anger and despair. Bant gave him a clean bill of health, and Obi-Wan escorted him back to their quarters. Anakin made sure to put on a show that he was feeling better, that he was okay, and was glad to be out of the grip of the Zone. "Thank you for rescuing me, Master," he managed to get out. "I'm sorry that you had to." He ducked his head, trying to look shamed, humble. He wanted to run.<p>

"I'm just glad you're safe," Obi-Wan replied, in a tone that implied they would be having a longer discussion on the matter in the near future. He knew his Master well enough to know when Obi-Wan was avoiding a confrontation. Sure enough, his next words were, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

He left Anakin alone in his room to brood, then. Anakin began to pace, wishing that, just once, he could turn off his mind on his own. The Zone had given him that, had allowed complete surrender. He'd felt like a Jedi, then, and though he knew the latest incarnation of the Zone had invoked less than Jedi-like behavior, the calm detachment had still been there. Had still reminded him of all he was missing. He settled onto the floor, trying to meditate, but he couldn't still his mind enough to let the Force provide any respite.

He began to pace again, his eyes moving to his open window, the balcony beyond. He could easily sneak out of the Temple in such a way, had done it before, in fact. He knew the lower levels would be the first place to start looking to find a replacement to the Zone, to find peace. Obi-Wan would be horribly disappointed if he found out, but, Anakin decided, Obi-Wan would never need to find out.

The balcony led to a drainage pipe leading from the roof of the Temple down to a walkway several stories below. Anakin slid on his cloak and carefully swung himself over the balcony rail, climbing down with practiced ease. From there, he flipped up his hood to hide his Padawan braid and walked into Coruscant's night.

* * *

><p>Climbing back up proved somewhat more difficult. Hours later, Anakin had tested too many wares to be able to easily scale the side of the Temple back up to his room. His head was spinning, and he was distantly surprised he'd made it back to the Temple at all. There was vomit on his tunic, and he wasn't sure if it was his or not; regardless, he was stuck on the ground, even looking up at the spires was making him dizzy. None of the substances he'd tried had provided anything approaching the Zone, and he was disappointed. He could still <em>feel<em>. And right now, he felt sick.

He sat down on the cold ground, back pressed against the stone wall of the Temple, and pulled his knees up to his chest. He sat like that until the sun rose, dozing off every so often, finally feeling sober enough to climb. He got back into bed just before Obi-Wan opened his door, waking him for his morning classes. Anakin sighed, realizing that asking Obi-Wan for the day off would only raise suspicion. He rolled out of bed, struggled into a clean set of robes, waved off Obi-Wan's offer of breakfast.

He made it through his first class before the panic began to well up inside of him, sending fluttery waves up and down his nervous system, his heart pounding too hard, breathing coming too fast. Tru noticed, pulled him aside. "What's wrong?" his friend asked gently.

Anakin shook his head. He couldn't drag Tru into this, he knew. "I'm fine," he replied. "Just, I think I had too much kaf this morning or something." He had to leave, had to run, had to get out of the Temple. Everything was too much, he felt everyone too intensely, it was like they were all sharing his mind. He needed them to stop, to shut up, to go away. "I need to go," he said, after a long moment. "See you later."

* * *

><p>Sneaking out of the Temple in broad daylight was tricky, but Anakin managed. To his surprise, the lower levels were still as active as they had been the previous night, all manner of unsavory activity being conducted in the dim light that filtered from far above. His hood up, identity concealed, Anakin entered one of the more disreputable establishments. He didn't think he'd been in this one the previous night, but he wasn't sure. Regardless, he was more clear-headed than he'd been then. Maybe he'd actually be able to find what he needed, this way.<p>

Finding a dealer hadn't been difficult, not that he'd expected it to be. "I need to be numb," he told the Twi'lek. "But I need to be able to function. Do you have something like that?" It felt so strange, the words coming out of his mouth, but he was removed from them. This wasn't him, not really.

The dealer considered, and withdrew a long, slim vial. "Mother's Kiss," he said, handing it to Anakin. "Pure. Thirty credits."

Anakin swallowed heavily, and waved his hand. "Ten credits." This wasn't him. This was just so he could become what he needed to be, become the Jedi he was supposed to be.

The dealer was easily influenced, and sold Anakin the entire stock. Though he knew it was risky not to try the stuff now, he needed to be able to return to the Temple safely before the evening meal, otherwise he would be missed, and the lecture he was expecting from Obi-Wan would come even sooner. He didn't want that, couldn't handle that. He pocketed the vials and returned to the Temple, climbing into his room before anyone even knew he'd been gone.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan waited until dinner to bring up Zan Arbor. He wasn't sure discussing the matter over meal time was wise, but he also wasn't sure when else to broach the topic. Besides, Anakin seemed amenable to the idea, less frantic than he'd been, more open. He felt closed off in the Force, but Obi-Wan supposed that was to be expected; it had happened the first time, too. "Anakin," he said, "We need to talk."<p>

Anakin nodded, heaping his plate with the food Obi-Wan had prepared. "I figured," he replied. "You want to know why I let myself get captured."

Blinking, Obi-Wan nodded carefully. "You knew the risks Zan Arbor would pose," he pointed out. "Why did you let them get past your defenses?"

Anakin shrugged. "I didn't mean to," he replied, and Obi-Wan wondered if the boy would ever realize how frustrating that answer was. "I'm sorry, Master, I know I ruined the mission." It was matter-of-fact, no emotion behind the words, just simple understanding of the situation. "I apologize, Master. I let my emotions get the better of me, as usual."

Obi-Wan wanted to fight his words. Never did Anakin admit his failing so easily, surely something was wrong. But the boy had just been through an ordeal, had been at the mercy of Omega in the most vile way possible, and Obi-Wan supposed it was natural that Anakin was acting unusual, trusted the notion would pass. "You did," he said, instead of arguing. "Your actions caused a criminal to get away, and caused you yourself considerable damage. I wish you would consider your actions before... acting." He tried not to raise his voice, to truly express how horribly afraid he'd been for Anakin's body and mind. And even though they were back, Obi-Wan still worried about Anakin's mind.

"I know, Master," Anakin said, bowing his head. "And I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know if he should punish Anakin for his rash decisions, or if what had happened was punishment enough. The look in Anakin's blank eyes when Obi-Wan had lifted him from the bed seared him, and he decided not to drag out this encounter any longer than necessary. "You can come to me if you're feeling overwhelmed, you know," he ventured carefully.

"I know, Master," Anakin replied with a slight smile. "I'm fine."

Obi-Wan wanted more than anything to believe him.

* * *

><p>The drug tasted sweet, felt like warm silk sliding down his throat. He knew injection was a faster way, but it was better to have no evidence of use. Besides, it tasted like the feeling it created: sweet, calming. Anakin had fallen in love with the feeling, desired it above all other things. This way, he could be a proper Jedi. This way, he could make his Master proud. It wasn't perfect, of course, nothing but the Zone could be. It made him lightheaded, made him hungry and tired and warm and numb and it was the last two that kept him going.<p>

He loved it. Embraced it. Sought it out again and again, day after day, until the hours blurred together in drugged harmony and sometimes he fell asleep in class, but mostly everything was calm and clear and wonderful. He knew Obi-Wan had noticed. He'd told his Master he was working on meditation techniques, was trying to calm his emotions so he would not be caught off-guard again. He wondered if Obi-Wan knew it was a lie, but couldn't reach out with the Force enough to tell.

"Try again." It was the voice of Cin Drallig, the lightsaber instructor. Anakin blinked out of his daze, realizing his lit 'saber was still in his hand, and he wasn't sure what was being asked of him. It didn't matter, he decided. Nothing they were practicing mattered; from now on, he would seek the peaceful path, not combat. The thought made him feel better, and he sat, cross-legged, on the padded floor. "What are you doing?" Drallig demanded, standing over him.

"Centering," Anakin replied, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he was looking at the incredulous expressions of several of his fellow Padawans, as well as Drallig. "Okay," he said, realizing suddenly he was acting oddly, needed to try harder for normalcy. "I'm ready. Apologies, Master." He bowed his head, and he seemed to be forgiven, because Drallig allowed him to use Shien and Anakin very nearly won, this time.

They stopped, breathing heavily, and Drallig gave him a bow. "Excellent, Padawan Skywalker," he gasped. "You've improved since the last time."

If Anakin could have felt pleasure, he would have grinned. As it was, he merely nodded his thanks, appreciating the warmth that had allowed him the victory.

* * *

><p>"What was that?" Ferus Olin demanded as they left the training salles, coming up behind Anakin as he slung his bag over his shoulder. Something was wrong, Ferus could tell. He'd suspected it before, but Anakin's little performance during lightsaber training made him feel it even more acutely.<p>

"What was what?" Anakin asked, turning to him, blinking serenely. Ferus wasn't buying it for a minute. "Ferus, I'm late for class."

Ferus narrowed his eyes. "Do I need to talk to your Master?" he asked. It was a low blow, but he knew Anakin's history of not speaking up when he should. Maybe he needed a little push.

Shrugging, Anakin began walking down the hallway. "Go ahead," he replied. "It'll just prove you to be the womp-fink you are." He turned to look over his shoulder. "So sorry I'm not as perfect as you, Olin."

"That's not -" Ferus protested and sighed as Anakin got lost in the crowd. He decided to keep an eye on the younger boy - he wouldn't go to Kenobi just yet, but he would, if he had to.

* * *

><p>"I need more," Anakin told the dealer, weeks later. He had no credits, had spent them all on sweet numbness. But he waved his hand, tried to harness the Force. It slipped through his fingers, like vapor. He could feel panic begin to rise, but the dealer was flexible.<p>

Anakin had tasted cock before, but he'd never thought he'd be on his knees in the middle of a dirty bar sucking off a Twi'lek for drugs. The situation was so absurd he almost laughed, but then he remembered what he was doing, and refocused. The dealer didn't pull out before he came, and Anakin nearly choked. He kept his composure, though, swallowed heavily, wiped his mouth. Stood, accepted his prize.

The dirty feeling washing over him faded away with the first vial, and by the second, he'd forgotten all about it.

"I need to talk to you," Obi-Wan said. It was rare he was able to catch Anakin these days; the boy seemed to disappear frequently, though his instructors all said he was doing better in his classes than he ever had. That in and of itself worried Obi-Wan. There was always something Anakin would chafe against, and Obi-Wan hated to think it, but it seemed lately that Anakin was too content. Something wasn't right.

Anakin blinked at him. "Okay," he said with a shrug. "What's up?"

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Why don't you tell me?" he suggested. "I haven't seen you in a while, Padawan. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

The boy's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't... there isn't anything going on," he replied. Obi-Wan had to give him credit; it was a convincing act. "I've just been trying hard to, you know, mind my feelings, or whatever."

"You can tell me, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, reaching. He had no proof, no solid evidence, just a gut feeling that he hoped was wrong, but knew probably wasn't. "Whatever you've gotten involved in, you can tell me."

Anakin stared at him blankly. "I'm not involved in anything," he insisted. "You're being paranoid, Master." His expression darkened. "Why do you assume something's _wrong_ when I'm doing nothing but _improving_? Do you think that little of me?" His fists clenched.

"It's not your performance that concerns me," Obi-Wan countered, breathing evenly, trying to release his stronger emotions - fear, apprehension, anxiety - into the Force. "It's your behavior." He paused. "Where do you go at night, Anakin?"

Anakin froze. "Nowhere," he managed. "I stay here at night." His voice wavered with the obvious lie.

"For kriff's sake, Anakin, tell me the truth for once!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, his agitation leaking through his own shields.

"I'm _telling_ you the truth!" Anakin shouted back. "It's not _my _fault you don't trust me!"

"And whose fault is it?" Obi-Wan replied sharply. "Don't you dare try and turn this back on me, Anakin. You've been sneaking around since we got back. Don't pretend there isn't anything going on." Obi-Wan didn't want to be raising his voice, but nothing else seemed to get a reaction. In fact, Anakin's reaction to the shouting was so subdued as to be nearly non-existent. But his reaction to the words themselves was damning.

"There's _nothing_ going on! Leave me the kriff alone!" He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>The anger was choking, staggering. Anakin could barely breathe through the anxious hand of panic closing around his lungs. He knew how to calm it, but he had left the Temple before he could grab his stash, and so he was here, in the lowers. The thought of letting the dealer touch him this time made him feel sick, sudden flashes of Granta Omega entering him, <em>hurting <em>him quelling his desire to make good on his need.

He drank, instead, and by the time the dealer appeared in his line of sight, he was drunk enough to sink to his knees, to plead for relief. The dealer took his hand, guided him to his feet, to the far side of the bar, where another man was waiting. Anakin closed his eyes, bracing his hands against the wall as the man slipped his pants down to his knees. The pain and shame were dulled by the liquor, but Anakin was still cognizant enough to know this was not where he had wanted to end up.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan had been tempted to follow Anakin, but he couldn't get a grasp on his Padawan's Force signature. Instead, he'd searched through Anakin's room, for proof that his suspicions were false. When he pulled the long, thin vials from Anakin's bedside table, closed his hand around them, wishing he'd left well enough alone.<p>

The sound of the door slamming open startled him, and he brought the vials out into the living room. "Anakin!" he exclaimed, dropping the vials to the floor. Anakin's tunic and pants were ripped, his cheek was cut open. He smelled of liquor and blood, and something else that made Obi-Wan's stomach churn.

"Master, I'm sorry," Anakin gasped, lurching across the floor. He'd seen the vials, moved towards them. Obi-Wan blocked his path, placing his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "Please, Master," Anakin pleaded, eyes cloudy, pained. He clutched at Obi-Wan's tunic, pulled him close. "I'll do anything, Master." He took a shuddery breath. "_Anything_."

"NO," Obi-Wan ordered sharply. "No, Anakin." He pushed Anakin away, held him at arm's length, but Anakin was strong, and determined. He pushed back, pressing his lips against Obi-Wan, tumbling them both onto the sofa. Anakin began to slip off his tunic, showing hand-shaped bruises on his upper arms. He ground himself against Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan was suddenly afraid. The Zone provided control, detachment. Whatever was going on now, this was the opposite. This was Anakin, with no control, desperate and hurting.

"Anakin, no," Obi-Wan sputtered, trying to scramble for purchase. Finally, with a surge of the Force, he pushed Anakin off of him, to the floor, where the boy looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Master..."

Obi-Wan used the Force to hold Anakin still, trying to determine his next move. If he took Anakin to the Healers, there risked the chance of the Council finding out about this monumental lapse in Jedi decorum, and as much as Obi-Wan valued the Council and the Code, he could not allow Anakin to be subjected to such scrutiny, not when he suspected it was that exact scrutiny that had led to such drastic measures. "It's alright, Anakin," he said softly. "We'll get through this. Just... calm your mind."

"What do you think I've been _trying_ to do?" Anakin cried, grabbing his hair, curling in on himself. "I _hate_ this!" He let out a keening moan that froze Obi-Wan's heart. "I don't want to _feel_ anymore! Why won't it just... I need it to _stop_!"

Obi-Wan didn't want to promise that things would get better. He couldn't promise it, in fact, because he knew it would be a lie. He knelt down on the floor beside Anakin, rubbing his back gently. "We'll get through this," he repeated as Anakin's moans turned to sobs.

* * *

><p>Obi-Wan excused Anakin from his classes with the explanation that he was due for some time off. It was a flimsy excuse, at best, but it seemed to dissuade most of the questions. In the meantime, Obi-Wan did as much research as he could about the drug Anakin had been taking. The information was not promising; Mother's Kiss was highly addictive, working on the brain's neural transmissions and re-wiring the brain to crave it more as it was used more frequently. The relapse rate was staggering, and Obi-Wan had no idea if he was equipped to deal with the withdrawal. But, if Anakin had any hope of remaining a Jedi, Obi-Wan knew he'd have to be the one to take charge.<p>

Halfway through the second day of non-stop retching, Obi-Wan broke down and called Bant. He couldn't handle it, much as he wanted to. He knew his friend had the ability to be discrete, after all. "Oh, Obi-Wan," she said upon entering Anakin's room, seeing his hunched form, shivering on the bed. "Obi-Wan, you should have come to me sooner." She knelt beside Anakin, pressed a hypo to his neck and the shivering stopped.

With Bant's help, Obi-Wan was able to get Anakin showered and changed, the sheets replaced. Anakin seemed completely lacking awareness, lost in his own world, misery radiating off him in waves. "Here," Bant said, handing Obi-Wan a box of hypos. "One every four hours, it will stave off the worst of the symptoms until it's out of his system. If he starts running a high fever, or having seizures, call me immediately. Otherwise I'll be back in the morning." She gripped Obi-Wan's arm. "It will be okay," she offered, but Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to believe her.

* * *

><p>Bant returned every day, true to her word, to help Obi-Wan. Anakin was little more than a doll, letting them manipulate him into fresh clothes, giving him food and liquid. He hadn't spoken since he'd broken down in Obi-Wan's living room, and Obi-Wan was beginning to get concerned.<p>

On the dawn of the sixth day, Anakin turned to him with recognition in his eyes. "Master..." he said, reaching out a hand. "I'm so sorry."

Obi-Wan grasped Anakin's hand in his own. "Shhh, Anakin," he said, sending soothing pulses through their bond. "Just rest."

Anakin snuggled his cheek against Obi-Wan's hand. "Stay with me, Master," he implored. "Until I fall back to sleep?" He moved over in the bed to make room.

Obi-Wan knew this wasn't going to fix anything. He knew, eventually, he and Anakin would need to talk about what had happened, that there would never be healing until they could. But that conversation was a long way off, and for now, Obi-Wan was content to curl himself around his Padawan, glad just to hear his breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest, the knowledge that, if nothing else, he was alive. Everything else would come second, and when it came, Obi-Wan knew they'd be able to face it together.

Or at least that's what he told himself.


End file.
